


I Do Solemnly Swear

by KaliopeShipsIt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Politics, Everyone Is Alive, Evil Gerard Argent, Evil Kate Argent, First Husband Derek Hale, Gratuitous Liberal Snowflake Opinions Abound in this fic, Inauguration Day, M/M, Mention of sexual harrassment, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Minor reference to Derek in panties, Mpreg, Omega Derek Hale, Omega Vice President Lydia Martin, Original Character(s), Politics, Pregnant Derek Hale, President Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: Minutes before his inauguration, President-Elect Stiles Stilinski can't help but feel a little nervous about the future of his country - and the fact that his heavily pregnant Omega's due date just HAD to be on this of all days.Luckily, First Husband Derek Hale-Stilinski is not about to let a little labor stand in his beloved President's way.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 46
Kudos: 259





	I Do Solemnly Swear

**Author's Note:**

> So. A word of WARNING: though I tried to show restraint, I have essentially dumped all of my liberal snowflake feelings from the past five years all over this little fic, which means that, in no particular order, there's going to be references to Nazis, white supremacy, misogyny, hypocritical 'Christians', pro-lifers with very selective opinions on which life actually matters, Fox News propaganda, pussy grabbing, and so on and so forth. 
> 
> Also, while I'm fairly confident that the MAGA crowd isn't particularly prone to hanging out in the Teen Wolf ABO Derek mpreg corner of the internet, I guess I should say it just in case: if you identify as a T**** Republican, you will not enjoy this fic. 
> 
> That being said, my apologies for the upcoming pathos, but it IS a fic about an American inauguration and also I'm all up in my snowflake feelings today and I regret nothing :). 
> 
> Enjoy, my Lovelies!
> 
> And to my American Democrats: this one's specifically for you :*

“Are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

“Yes!”

“Really? Are you really, _truly_ certain this isn’t too much for you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Maybe it would be safer for you to wait inside! It’s going to be pretty cold and I don’t want you to get sick!”

“Cold? _Cold_? It’s almost 60 degrees! Global warming, remember? Besides, I’m supposed to stand up there with you during the oath and you couldn’t pay me to miss out on that!”

“Yes, about that – are you sure you’ll be able to stand that long?”

“It’s not even going to be a _minute_ , Stiles!”

“Well _excuse me_ for worrying, Mr. “My Back is Killing Me”, which I’ve already heard seven times today and it isn’t even noon! Seriously – are you _absolutely_ , one-hundred percent sure you’ll be alright?”

“Yes, Stiles! For the twentieth time, yes! I’m fine! We’re fine! Stop worrying!”

“I just have a bad feeling about this! This was a mistake! Maybe we should just postpone!”

“Postpone? _Postpone_? Jesus, Stiles!” Derek groaned, staring at his husband with a thoroughly exasperated expression.

Stiles glared back defiantly, a hint of red seeping into his eyes as his gaze wandered down and he raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

“What? I’m sure there’s a clause in there somewhere that allows us to postpone the whole thing due to extenuating circumstances!”

Derek dragged his hand across his face, letting out a heavy sigh and shaking his head heavenward as though he was currently regretting every single life-choice that had led him to this place.

When he turned back to Stiles, his voice was bone-dry.

“Yeah. Sure. Let’s postpone the whole _thing_. I’m sure there’s a paragraph in the Constitution that covers such _extenuating circumstances_. Ah yes, I recall. It’s in the twentieth amendment, section seven: if, at the time fixed for the beginning of the term of the President, the President elect shall have acted like an overprotective idiot, the inauguration shall, _of course_ , be postponed!”

He shook his head again, raising both eyebrows at his pouting husband.

“Beloved? You _do_ realize that you can’t just postpone your own presidential inauguration, right?”

“ _Obviously_!” Stiles huffed, managing to glare at his husband for exactly point five seconds before he let out a dramatic sigh and slumped in his seat.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” he lamented, his knees bouncing in agitation as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Stop it! You’ll look like you stuck your fingers into an electric socket,” Derek chastised him, tugging at his Alpha’s hand and squeezing it tightly.

In response, Stiles just let out another heavy sigh, dragging his free hand across his face instead.

“No really, I’m dead serious! You should have stopped me!”

Derek blinked, throwing him a rather confused look.

“...stop you? From _what_? Giving an actual damn about this country? Caring about people other than yourself? Making it clear that Nazis and their merry band of white supremacist assholes are _not_ nice people and never fucking will be? Giving the people hope after the clusterfuck of the past four years? Being elected the _President_ of the United States? Pray tell, what should I have stopped, exactly?”

“Well none of _that_ , obviously!” Stiles declared dramatically, giving his husband a very unimpressed side-eye.

“Well, then I have literally no idea what you’re talking about!” Derek replied, his eyebrows flying all the way up to his hairline when Stiles huffed once again and poked his bellybutton with an accusatory finger.

“I’m talking about _this_ , of course!” he exclaimed, shaking his head morosely as he ran his hand across Derek’s round stomach.

Derek snorted in disbelief, gaping at his husband in righteous indignation.

“ _Excuse me_? How was I supposed to know it was actually going to work?”

“The day was April 29th of the year 2020,” Stiles narrated dramatically, shuffling closer so he could frame Derek’s stomach with both hands and looking thoroughly vexed about it all.

“A young, hopeful Alpha had just won the Ohio Democratic primary, putting him in a comfortable lead over his competitors and prompting the first serious media buzz over his eventual nomination. It was a night of sheer elation, a night of promise and hope for a new beginning! Thrumming with anticipation, the young, hopeful Alpha hurried back to his beloved, only to be completely _blind-sided_ with a sight that he’d most certainly _not_ anticipated!”

Stiles raised his eyebrows and shot Derek a meaningful glare, his expression clearly conveying that he considered the matter of culpability quite obvious indeed.

“It was an ambush on his Alphahood! A trap, a snare, an ambuscade, for his beloved had lain in wait all day, _plotting_ to ensnare the young, hopeful Alpha’s senses and lure him into his warm embrace!”

“I didn’t...”

“ _Panties_!” Stiles interrupted, somehow managing to imbue the two syllable-word with the sound of a thousand betrayals.

“Panties the color of the emerald sea! Panties strapped to a pair of soft, delicate stockings that accentuated the Omega’s muscular calves and beckoned his thoroughly _ambushed_ Alpha to touch the satiny smooth skin of his beloved’s supple thighs! It was a sight for the gods, a work of art, a most cherished fantasy literally come to life, but that wasn’t enough for the _scheming_ Omega! Oh no! _Nope_! It sure wasn’t!”

“Oh dear god,” Derek groaned, hiding his face behind his hands and making a rather pained sound.

Stiles clucked his tongue, clearly not in the mood to take mercy on him.

“Dear god is right! The young, hopeful Alpha did, indeed, utter a stream of praises to all kinds of deities when his beloved turned and revealed his panties to actually be a mini cheek thong! A _thong_ , Derek! Who _does_ that? A conniving _vixen_ with intentions on his Alpha’s heart, knot, and sanity, that’s who!”

He shook his head, followed by yet another theatrical sigh.

“The Alpha was beside himself! Who wouldn’t have been! It was a dream come true, a thoroughly unexpected reward for the electoral triumph of the day! A triumph that _paled_ in comparison to the utterly triumphant sight of round, meaty globes clad in lace, ever so tantalizing presented in the gleaming light of the fucking _candles_ the cunning Omega had placed all around the room! The young, hopeful Alpha never stood a chance!”

“I regret everything,” Derek moaned, peeking through his fingers and flashing Stiles a thoroughly judgmental glare when his husband let out a rather un-presidential snort.

“Clearly not! _Especially_ not the part when I whipped out my knot and frantically begged you to let me put a baby in you and you said okay! _Okay!_ Who just says _okay_ when their love-drunk and _thoroughly ambushed_ Alpha has clearly lost his mind and suggests making a baby in the middle of a super stressful presidential campaign! Despite the risk of ending up with a due date on _the exact same day as daddy’s inauguration_!”

Derek grinned, running both hands across his forty weeks pregnant stomach and nodding contemplatively.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. That part I don’t regret at all.”

Stiles groaned and threw up his hands, following up the theatrics with a heartfelt “Duh!”

Derek pointedly raised his eyebrows, flashing his Alpha a knowing little smile.

“Neither did you, by the way. At least that was the impression I got when Scott called to scream about how you’d just won enough delegates to secure the nomination right after we’d looked at the pregnancy test result and you just yelled “I’m going to be a daddy!” and hung up on him mid-sentence! He’s _still_ grumpy about that, you know!”

Stiles’ outrage instantly melted away, his indignant expression giving way to an utterly goofy smile as he bent forward to place a soft kiss on top of Derek’s bump.

“Yeah. Still the best news I’ve ever gotten in my life,” he decided, his voice soft and filled with adoration as he cradled Derek’s stomach with both hands and brought their lips together for a tender kiss.

In the front of the limousine, the intercom crackled.

“Reyes coming in for Boyd. Just out of curiosity – does Snowman realize that he’s currently on his way to his heavily secured and _closely monitored_ presidential inauguration and my entire team just got _quite_ the earful? Over.”

Stiles winced, pulling away from Derek immediately and blushing when the Omega gave him a scandalized look that clearly said he was very much back to regretting every single one of his life choices.

Before Stiles could defend himself, Agent Boyd had already cleared his throat, his voice drier than the desert as he tapped the intercom.

“No Sir. However, Sourwolf looks like he’s just about ready to throw himself out of the moving car, so please watch out for the First Husband on the pavement and drive accordingly. Over.”

“I hate all of you. Just so you know,” Stiles exclaimed with feeling, though his ears, cheeks, and the back of his neck were flushed quite red as he grumpily crossed his arms over his chest.

On the intercom, Erica barked out a laugh, her voice brimming with amusement and fondness when she replied, “Love you, too, Mr. President!” and signed off.

“Mr. President,” Derek repeated softly, his mortification gone and forgotten at the reminder of what was going to happen over the course of the next hour.

Beside him, Stiles sobered instantly, reaching for his hand again and squeezing it so tightly it almost hurt.

“Derek?” he whispered, turning to him and staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m nervous. I’m really fucking nervous!”

Derek smiled gently, letting go of his Alpha’s hand so he could reach for him and pull him forward until their foreheads were touching, one hand gently cupping Stiles’ nape and the other squeezing his shoulder.

“Don’t be,” he said quietly, pressing a soft kiss against Stiles’ lips.

“You’re ready for this. All these people out there? They’re here because they trust you. They’re here because they’re rooting for you and they’re going to be behind you every step of the way. You’re not alone in this. You’re _never_ going to be alone in this!”

“I love you,” Stiles whispered, his hands dropping back to Derek’s stomach and rubbing gently.

“Both of you. So much. I want to make this country better for them. Fuck! I want to make things better for all of them! What if I can’t? Derek? What if I _can’t_?”

“You can and you _will_ ,” Derek said with conviction, squeezing his shoulder tightly and trying to convey just how much he believed in him. 

“You will! I’ve never seen you give up once in twenty years and there’s no way you’re going to start giving up now! _Especially_ not now! You’re going to be amazing at this, Stiles! You’re going to give it everything you have and more, just like you always do when you really care! You’re going to make things better! I know you will!” 

He pulled back to look at him properly, blinking his bright gold eyes rapidly against the tears he couldn’t really hold back.

“You’re not going to make things perfect overnight. I don’t think anybody can! You’re going to make things better though! From here on out, things are going to be so much better, Stiles! _So much_! And that’s a start! That’s a really fucking good start!”

“Language, Mr. Derek,” Stiles chuckled wetly, wiping at his eyes and grinning ruefully when Derek huffed.

“You’re one to talk,” the Omega muttered, though he held up his arms and motioned for Stiles to come closer.

Stiles didn’t have to be asked twice, letting out a soft sigh when he buried his head into the crook of Derek’s neck and felt his strong arms wrap around his back, his hand rubbing soothing circles in between Stiles’ tense shoulders.

Between them, the baby kicked in greeting and Stiles smiled, cradling Derek’s belly once more.

“There _is_ one thing I regret though,” he muttered after a long moment, his smile slipping off his face as he tilted his head to look at his husband.

“I wish the timing had been different. You shouldn’t have had to go through your first pregnancy with the press watching your every move and those fuckers over on _Fox & Friends_ practically salivating at the gills to shame you for literally everything.”

Derek sighed, his lips twitching into a half-smile as he trailed his finger over the knob of his bellybutton, which was peeking out prominently through the stretchy material of his teal-blue shirt.

“I guess I could have refrained from – how did that guy on the _700 Club_ put it? Ah yes, I remember. I probably could have refrained from _flaunting my fecundity_ by squeezing my body into body-hugging clothes that accentuated rather than modestly hid the evidence of my sexual activities. Though I must say, we would have missed out on a lot of fun if I had followed their advice – do you remember the segment they did that one time I got a little sweaty in Arizona and my _provocatively engorged_ nipples were clear to see through that white shirt?”

“Vividly. Both that infernal segment and those damn provocatively perky nipples,” Stiles replied, flashing Derek an apologetic smile and punctuating his regret with a soft kiss to Derek’s jaw.

“I also particularly liked the viral video of the preacher who acted all surprised that you actually allowed me to go through with the pregnancy, since you love abortions so much and keep a dumpster full of fetuses in your basement.”

Stiles snorted angrily, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“No, you’re getting that confused. Planned Parenthood were the ones with the fetus dumpster. I’m the guy who’s racking in the millions by making secret deals with Pfizer, Bill Gates, and the Lizard People to sell them aborted Alpha fetuses so they can create chemical weapons of mass destruction.”

“Ah yes, of course. My mistake,” Derek corrected himself, shaking his head and letting out a humorless huff of laughter when Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And remember how I ate a third cupcake during that one campaign stop at the elementary school and the next day Laura Ingraham ran a segment on my excessive weight gain and risk for gestational diabetes and the hashtag LibtardPreggoPiggy started trending on Twitter?”

Stiles growled, his eyes flashing red in anger.

“ _Yep_! It’s always a treat when the concerned citizens of this nation use ableist slurs while fancying themselves paragons of Christian kindness at the same time. Also, how could I forget! That one actually made you cry!”

“Nah, it was more a combination of hormones and seeing you so upset about it. Besides, the doctor told me I was well within the average range of pregnancy weight gain and you certainly made sure to take time out of your busy campaign schedule to make sure I was feeling good about myself and my body at all times,” Derek shrugged, squeezing his Alpha’s hands and trying for a smile that clearly did nothing to soothe his husband’s ruffled feathers.

“I just...I really didn’t think they’d go that far. Sure, the past four years have set the bar ridiculously low, but that was...yeah...I actually don’t have any words. And that wasn’t even the worst of it!” Stiles said grimly, his eyes meeting Agent Boyd and Agent Lahey’s in the mirror when neither Alpha managed to suppress an angry growl.

“I still can’t believe they thought it would actually work!” Derek exclaimed, shaking his head incredulously and looking like he still hadn’t made up his mind whether he wanted to scream, cry, or laugh his head off about the obviously faked graphic photos from an _anonymous source_ that Tucker Carlson had literally been frothing at the mouth to present on air just a week before the election.

“I mean, sure, whoever did the photoshopping did a well enough job with putting my face on that porn star’s body, but whoever came up with the idea that I was cheating on you with LeBron James really didn’t do their research! The guy is like seven feet tall and they photoshopped his head on a 5’7 body that weighed 147 pounds soaking wet! At most!”

Stiles grunted, still looking incredibly angry at the memory.

“Yeah, they were really getting frantic about our poll numbers at that point. Frantic enough to also completely forget about photoshopping LeBron’s tattoos in as well,” he muttered darkly.

“And don’t forget about the rolled-up dollar bill in my hand and the line of cocaine they photoshopped on his abs. Because apparently _those_ _black guys_ are _always_ coated in cocaine and I was _clearly_ going to be able to ride him and bend over my thirty weeks pregnant belly to snort some cocaine right off of his abs at the same time,” Derek reminded him, wrinkling his nose judgmentally.

“It _is_ kind of poetic that they stumbled over their own racist bullshit in the end,” Stiles agreed, letting out another angry huff.

“Sure, the 5’7 LeBron was already a tough sell, but that cocaine was just gratuitous.”

“Most importantly, it didn’t work! In fact, I think it actually did the opposite by convincing quite a few undecided voters to swing towards you!” Derek insisted and Stiles nodded, gently cupping his husband’s pregnant belly once more.

“Yeah. All thanks to you and that amazing statement you gave.”

“It really was a great statement Mr. Hale,” Agent Lahey chimed in from the driver’s seat, briefly meeting Derek’s glance in the rear-view mirror before focusing back on the road to the Capitol.

“I especially liked the part where you said that you loved your baby with everything you had and all those fake-ass ‘Christians’ and supposedly ‘pro-life’ Republicans should be fucking ashamed for being practically giddy with glee at the thought that those pictures were actually real and you’d ever risk your baby’s health like that!”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say anything about someone being a fake-ass,” Derek replied immediately, his lips twitching into a wry smile when Stiles snorted beside him.

“It was heavily implied, my love. You were basically shaking with anger! Made me weak in the knees to see my strong, smart Omega put those assholes in their place!”

“Sir? Is this about to turn into another riveting story about a young, hopeful Alpha?” Agent Boyd inquired politely, and Stiles groaned, burrowing his face into the crook of Derek’s neck once more.

Derek chuckled and patted his Alpha’s back, gently nuzzling his hairline and kissing his forehead.

“Stiles?”

“Hmmm?”

“You do realize I had an amazing pregnancy...right?”

Stiles shook his head, not looking up as he muttered, “You’re just saying that to make me feel less guilty.”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed, sounding a little exasperated but mostly fond as he nudged against the Alpha’s head to get him to look at him again.

When Stiles did, Derek flashed his eyes for emphasis, holding eye-contact with his Alpha as he grasped his hand and pressed it against his belly.

“Listen to me. I had an _amazing_ pregnancy! The day I found out I was pregnant was the same day I realized that I was carrying the child of the future President of the United States! The first time I felt our baby kick was when we stood on stage at the DNC and you’d just officially accepted the nomination! The first Omega Vice-President of the United States threw me a baby shower and in just an hour I’m going to spend the last moments of my pregnancy watching my child’s father take the oath to become our next President! All of that is pretty mind-blowing on its own, yet none of that was actually the best part!”

He smiled brightly, leaning forward to kiss his husband softly and soundly.

“Want to know the best part?” he whispered, quietly enough that neither of the agents would be able to hear it.

“The best part was that you were by my side through it all. No rally or press conference was ever more important than my needs. You were swept up in the greatest adventure of your life and yet you still somehow managed to hold my hand during every single appointment! You could have effortlessly exchanged one of your speeches for the current chapter of _What To Expect When You’re Expecting_ and quoted from memory for every single week of my pregnancy, and you made sure I knew you’d always answer my call, no matter where you were and what you were doing at the time.”

He kissed Stiles again, gently trailing his fingers across the Alpha’s cheekbones.

“I was ready to do most of it on my own. I always knew what I was getting into and I would have done it without blame or anger. You wouldn’t hear of it though. Our baby and I were always your first priority. You made me feel more cherished and important than the office of the _President of the United States_ , Stiles! Those are the things I will always treasure! Those are the things that made my first pregnancy more incredible than I could have _ever_ imagined!”

“You’re serious?” Stiles croaked, his voice raw and his eyes once again wet with tears as he held Derek’s gaze.

“Yes, my Alpha,” Derek said firmly, cupping Stiles’ face and pulling him into another gentle kiss.

“I love you – my President.”

=====================

“Esteemed Omegas and Gentlealphas! Mr. Derek Hale-Stilinski and Mr. Martin, accompanied by Secretary of the Senate Danny Mahealani and the clerk of the House of Representatives Kira Yukimura!”

Derek took a deep breath and smiled as they stepped out of the hallway and onto the carpet covering the Capitol steps, waving at the massive crowd in front of him with his right hand while his left clutched the old Bible that Stiles had inherited from his late mother and that he’d chosen to swear his oath on.

“Watch your step,” Jackson hissed beside him, looking like it was taking all of his self-control to not flash his Alpha eyes all over the place and clearly in rare agreement with Stiles that a 40 weeks pregnant Omega could not be trusted to walk down a handful of steps without falling to his death.

The cameras started flashing and Derek knew without a shadow of doubt that most of the attention was on him and his protruding belly, rounder than ever and prominently put on display by the figure-hugging teal shirt and the slim cut of the anthracite paternity suit that Lydia had hand-picked for him.

The suit jacked was meant to be worn open and Derek was also wearing an open light overcoat in a similar shade of gray, both to assuage Stiles’ worries of him tragically freezing to death during the ceremony and because it was going to cover up the fact that his butt had definitely gotten a bit rounder during the last stretch of his pregnancy and he really wasn’t keen on having his assets break the internet yet again. 

As they walked through the crowd of elite politicians, Derek’s eyes sought out the familiar face of John Stilinski, who was standing at the front and beaming with pride, his gaze flitting back and forth between former presidents, Supreme Court judges, senators, and representatives like he had to keep making sure they were actually there and it wasn’t just a dream.

Derek knew the feeling.

Had it not been for the little life kicking in his belly and keeping him grounded to reality, Derek was pretty sure that he, too, would have questioned whether he was actually awake. 

They made eye-contact and John’s smile widened, though the Alpha’s gaze instantly narrowed when Derek approached and came to stand beside him.

“You’re limping a little. Back bothering you again?” John whispered out of the corner of his mouth as the speaker announced the soon to be former President and Vice President and the attention of the cameras had turned away from them.

Derek smiled and shook his head, squeezing John’s arm reassuringly.

In truth, his back was, indeed, bothering him, and had in fact been bothering him since that morning.

However, watching the current administration more or less stomp down the steps with clenched teeth and forced smiles was definitely doing wonders to soothe Derek’s little pregnancy aches and pains.

It was definitely true what they said.

Revenge _was_ a dish best served just minutes away from the inauguration of the next Democratic president of the United States and Derek made sure to give President Argent his most blinding smile as he assumed his place.

He also made sure to nod and smile cheerfully at the soon to be former first daughter, keeping eye-contact as he turned his head sideways, lowered his chin and defiantly flashed his eyes for a split second when he pressed his finger against the side of his nose and made a barely audible and very brief snort.

The blonde Alpha’s smile slipped off her face as Derek’s grin widened, and for a moment they just stared at each other, furious green meeting disgusted hazel until Kate’s entire face twitched and she looked down.

It was as much an admission of guilt as any.

Derek was still smiling as he turned back to the crowd, his chest feeling lighter and easier than it had in months.

Actually, if he was truly honest about it, his chest felt lighter than it had in more than six years.

Ever since Stiles had been sworn in as the youngest Senator of California in the history of the Senate, the daughter of then Senator Argent of Missouri had made herself a steady presence in their life, lurking around him at official functions, making him uncomfortable through unwanted touches and comments on his looks, and forever trying to create a situation where she could be alone with him.

After her father had been elected President, Kate had gotten bolder, practically openly pursuing him without regard for his marriage or his open dislike of her.

However, Derek had been able to outsmart her at every turn, reluctantly playing this tiring game of cat and mouse that had only gotten more vicious the day Stiles had announced his presidential run.

There was no doubt in Derek’s mind that Kate had been the one who’d orchestrated the photo scandal and most of the other smear campaigns the Argents had targeted towards them during the heated campaign, her vendetta against them partially driven by her disgust for Stiles’ politics, the threat his husband posed to her own political ambitions, and her anger over having been denied Derek’s body.

If whispers in Washington were to be believed – and Derek had no reason to doubt them whatsoever – Katherine Argent had never been denied a day in her life, taking what she believed was owed to her by virtue of her birth and gender and sometimes _grabbing_ people without giving a flying fuck as to whether they wanted to be grabbed or not. 

Even now, she was protected by Gerard’s money and his still considerable influence, and Derek had no illusions that she’d ever have to answer for any of her numerous crimes.

Yet, as he watched her stand beside her father with her hands clenched tightly and her mouth set in a firm line, Derek felt a burst of satisfaction at knowing that she’d lost regardless.

It was an open secret that she’d planned to run in 2024, replacing her father after his second term and following into his divisive and destructive footsteps.

Of course, Derek had no doubt that she was still going to run, but he wasn’t the only one in Washington who suspected that the faked pornographic pictures had been her dirty work – in fact, a couple of very important, very influential, very wealthy, and very disgusted people had also made the connection, and Derek would eat his hat if her 2024 campaign even made it past the first primary.

She’d gambled high and lost all and not even the back spasm that was currently gripping his waist in a tight vice could damper Derek’s spirits as he watched father and daughter stew in the misery of their defeat.

“Esteemed Omegas and Gentlealphas! The Vice-President-Elect of the United States, Mrs. Lydia E. Martin!”

On Derek’s other side, Jackson snapped to attention and Derek couldn’t help but grin when the Alpha gripped his arm and squeezed excitedly, whispering, “Lydia! That’s my Lydia!” as his wife began her triumphant descent to the bottom of the stairs.

It was a moment for the history books and Derek felt beyond grateful to be a part of it, his chest bursting with pride and joy as the first ever Omega Vice-President and – he hoped – future next President of the United States smiled at the crowd.

 _Maybe this will be you some day_ , he thought as he stroked his belly, taking his baby’s gentle kick as confirmation and watching Lydia greet her husband with a radiant smile.

Derek and Stiles had decided on a delivery surprise and Stiles swore up and down their baby was an Alpha like every other Stilinski firstborn that had come before them, but Derek’s intuition had been telling him otherwise for months, his papa instincts more convinced than ever as Lydia brushed a soft kiss along his cheek in greeting and briefly cupped his belly with a gentle hand.

When Lydia pulled back, her gaze was narrowed, her voice barely above a whisper when she asked, “Are you okay, Derek? Your stomach is really hard.”

“I’m okay. Just tense. Nervous. Is he okay though?”

“ _He_ ’s fine. Worrying about you and terrorizing everyone around him with horror stories about precipitous births. When I left, Erica had just wrestled his phone from him and told him he was banned from googling for the good of God and the Republic. I’m actually quite surprised you didn’t hear the outraged squawking all the way down here. It was _quite_ the presidential spectacle indeed.”

Derek chuckled and shook his head, opening his mouth only to have his reply dying on his lips when the announcer spoke again and sent his heartbeat skyrocketing to the moon.

“Esteemed Omegas and Gentlealphas! The President-Elect of the United States, Mieczysław H. Stilinski!”

The noise was deafening, the sound of rushing flags, excited cheers, and triumphant screams rising to the bright, sunlit sky and accompanying Stiles as he slowly began walking down the stairs.

His hair had been fixed, his eyes were sharp and sparkling with determination, his back was straight, his shoulders broad, and his stride was swift and firm, not a trace of his usual awkwardness in sight as he waved and smiled at the crowd.

He looked ready to take on anything, looked ready to commit and shoulder the responsibility of the oath he was about to take.

He looked like a president, the youngest in the nation’s history and with the potential to be one of its greatest.

Derek _loved_ him, had never been prouder of him, and when their gazes met and Stiles’ eyes flashed red he felt exhilarant with happiness, his own eyes flashing gold and his smile brighter than ever as he watched his Alpha take the last steps until the moment they’d worked so hard for.

“I love you,” he mouthed and Stiles’ smile turned even more radiant, the worried question in his eyes replaced with a breathtaking expression of joy and triumph.

Derek couldn’t stop smiling as he watched him continue to greet and wave at people, lightly swaying back and forth to loosen his cramped back muscles and letting out a soft sigh of relief when it was finally time for them to take their seats.

As dictated by protocol, Derek sat down on a chair that was behind and to the side of his husband’s, but Stiles immediately reached backwards as soon as they’d sat down, blindly grasping for Derek’s hand and not letting go of him through speeches, prayers, and songs, his thumb gently tracing over Derek’s wrist even though his gaze never left the podium.

All too soon, it was time for Lydia to take her oath, and Derek was pretty sure he could hear half the crowed coo in awe as Stiles jumped up and instantly offered Derek a hand to help him stand as well.

If Derek had thought the crowd had been loud before, the cheers definitely reached unprecedented volumes when Lydia turned to the crowd as their new Vice-President and the orchestra started playing behind her.

If he hadn’t been about to watch his husband take his own oath, Derek knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have been part of the crowd and cheering right alongside them, knew for a fact that his parents, Peter, Laura, and Cora were currently yelling and whistling in celebration somewhere in the sea of jubilant people celebrating this new chapter in the nation’s history.

It felt like only a second had passed by the time the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court was announced, and then Stiles was gently tugging at his hand, his eyes sparkling as they headed to the front of the stage again.

Derek inhaled deeply as he took his position beside his husband, his chest flooding with relief when the horrible back cramp that had been plaguing him through half of the orchestra’s musical interlude _finally_ eased up.

He held up the Bible and couldn’t quite suppress his shiver as he watched his husband place his hand on the worn cover and the baby kicked as well, as if they, too, could sense the magnitude of the occasion.

“Are you ready to take the oath, Senator?”

“I am,” Stiles said firmly, and Derek was certain he was not the only one with goosebumps all over, holding his breath as Stiles began to repeat after the Chief Justice.

“I, Mieczysław Henry Stilinski do solemnly swear that I will execute the office of President of the United States faithfully and will to the best of my ability preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God!”

The crowd went _wild_ , the cheers and screams deafening as Stiles shook the Chief Justice’s hand and then turned to Derek and kissed him.

Then, Stiles bent down and angled his body just sideways enough so the crowd could see him kiss Derek’s belly and even though it should have been impossible, the cheers got even louder, still.

It was the proudest, happiest, and most surreal moment of Derek’s life.

When he felt the first trickle of fluid glide down his pant leg, Derek realized it was also shaping up to be his scariest.

He waited until Stiles had turned to wrap up his father in a bear hug before letting out a soft gasp, hastily tucking his hands into his coat pockets and tugging the sides as close as he could.

He couldn’t see past his belly and couldn’t risk anyone noticing if he performed an acrobatic maneuver to check out the damage, but he could still feel the fluid trickling down his leg, not so much a gush like in the movies but a slow, steady stream, probably clear to see on the anthracite pants that he’d thought looked really stunning before but were turning out to be absolutely impractical now.

To his great relief, no one was paying attention to his legs, however, as everyone’s eyes were drawn to Stiles as he stepped up to the podium to begin his speech.

Derek was beyond grateful to be able to sit down again, feeling a little panicked and a lot stupid as he finally recognized the on-off backpain for what it was.

He was in labor.

Had probably been in labor for hours.

Also, his Alpha was going to flip his presidential shit.

However, Derek was an amazing Omega, and he was going to tough it out until the end of the ceremony.

He was going to smile, wave, and pretend his stomach wasn’t feeling like it had been wrapped in a vice and set on fire, his vision almost whiting out at the first wave of pain that _actually_ felt like a contraction.

 _Shit_ , he thought, gritting his teeth and breathing through his nose as his stomach hardened, the pain getting worse and worse until he thought he was actually going to bite through his lip.

Then, it was over, and Derek could breathe again, though his relief instantly dissipated when he looked to the side and realized that both Lydia and Jackson were staring at him with wide, alarmed eyes.

He quickly shook his head and held a finger to his lips, and Jackson’s eyes flashed in overprotective outrage, followed by a wince when Lydia gripped his knee and hissed, “None of that!”

They kept shooting him worried glances as Stiles finished up, but Derek was barely paying attention, his eyes flitting back and forth between his watch and his husband as he prayed his contractions were still far enough apart.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Yes.

Good.

Ten minutes was good.

Ten minutes meant that Derek was only going to have to suffer through two more contractions at the most before he could escape the eyes of the public and curl up into a tight ball of pain in peace and quiet.

It was going to be fine.

He was okay.

Everything was fine.

Everything was decidedly _not_ fine, as Derek came to realize when his knees buckled in the middle of the national anthem and only Lydia and Jackson’s quick reactions saved him from crumbling to the ground in agony.

The pain was blinding, worse than anything he’d ever felt before, and he was so focused on not screaming and ruining the anthem that he almost forgot to breathe entirely.

Someone was talking to him, holding him up and rubbing his back as Derek rode out the contraction with choked gasps, whimpers, and agonized moans, feeling shaky and exhausted by the time it was finally over. 

When he managed to open his eyes and look up, his husband’s eyes were bright red and possibly visible from space.

A moment later, the anxiously whispering crowd was treated to a decidedly presidential “Holy shit!”

======================

It was entirely unusual for a newly inaugurated President to deliver a live Oval Office address on his first day in office.

Long considered to be a major address meant to function as a direct line of connection between the President and the American people, the location conveyed a sense of seriousness and authority, a reminder of the tough decisions the President had to make on a daily basis and a reminder of the promise they’d made to the American people.

When President Stiles Stilinski turned towards the camera at 11:35 PM on January 20th of 2021, he looked exhausted and overjoyed, his eyes filled with love and wonder and his voice firm yet brimming with emotion as he began to speak.

“Good evening. At 12:00 PM today, I received the greatest honor of my life when I took my oath to become the President of the United States. Only a few short hours later, at 5:10 PM this afternoon, my beloved Derek and I received the greatest gift we could have ever asked for. My fellow Americans, it is my great joy and honor to introduce to you the First Omega Daughter of the United States of America: Miss Maya Ruth Hale-Stilinski.”

He smiled down at the newborn baby in his arms, gently trailing his finger over her soft black tufts of hair and the tiny fist that was pressed against a rosy chubby cheek.

She was sleeping soundly, tuckered out from her exciting first day, and Stiles couldn’t help but briefly look past the camera to make eye-contact with his beloved Omega, who was curled up on the couch behind the cameraman and looked just as exhausted, just as in awe, and just as in love as Stiles felt.

“Our daughter has been named for two of this country’s greatest Omega daughters,” he continued, turning back to the camera and gently rocking his baby girl as he spoke.

“One of them once said: each time an Omega stands up for themselves, without knowing it possibly, without claiming it, they stand up for all Omegas.”

He smiled, tilting his neck to press a soft kiss to Maya’s head.

“The other one once said: fight for the things you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.”

Stiles turned back to face the camera, adjusting his daughter in his arms and very slowly letting his eyes bleed red as the smile slipped off his face and was replaced with a challenging expression.

“Today, I took on the two most important jobs I will ever have in my lifetime: to serve as your President and to teach my amazing daughter to stand up for herself in a world where far too many would prefer her to stay down.”

His lips thinned, his eyes flashing in determination as he stared at the camera.

“My daughter will not be able to stand, walk, or talk on her own for quite some time, so until then, it will be my duty to do it in her stead. I will stand up for her and every other Omega here and abroad, and I pledge to do it in a way that will lead you all to join me on this path. I have said it many times before and I will keep saying it for as long as I have to. We have _a lot_ of work ahead of us until the day that Omegas and Alphas of all colors, origins, identities, religions, and sexualities will truly be held equal. Let us stop wasting any more time and get it done already! We can _all_ do it! And by God – we must! God bless you all – and may God bless the United States of America.”

When the camera man held up his thumb to signal the end of the broadcast, Stiles let out a deep breath, standing up as carefully as he could to avoid jostling his baby and walking back to the couch with her at snail speed, a part of him still absolutely terrified he was going to drop her even though he’d been flooded with protective hormones the moment the doctor had placed her on Derek’s chest and he’d seen her sweet face for the very first time.

Derek smiled up at him, making room for him on the couch and resting his head on Stiles’ shoulder after the Alpha had carefully sat down.

“Good?” Stiles asked, feeling suddenly raw and aching at even the idea that he might one day fail the tiny little girl in his arms, his beloved daughter whom he’d only known for just a few hours and who already held his heart in her adorably tiny fist.

“Hmm,” Derek confirmed softly, reaching out to gently trace their daughter’s cheek before closing his eyes with a tired sigh.

“Do you want to rest a little before we head over to our chambers?” Stiles asked quietly, his lips stretching into a fond smile when Derek hummed again, clearly almost asleep.

Stiles looked up and made eye-contact with the cameraman and his assistant, smiling gratefully and nodding towards the door.

“That will be all for tonight. Thank you very much for doing this on such short notice.”

The Omega cameraman smiled back and nodded, throwing one last fond glance at the sleeping baby.

“It was a pleasure and honor. Goodnight, Mr. President.”

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, the warm feeling in his chest upon hearing the words still just as startling as the first time.

Derek let out another little hum, yawning softly and pressing into nose into the crook of Stiles’ neck when Stiles gently pulled him in so he could rest on his chest.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” he whispered softly, his breathing evening out as he started falling asleep in earnest

Stiles watched him for a long time after, his chest almost aching with love and his shoulders feeling heavy with responsibility.

There was a long road ahead of them, a lot of problems to be fixed and new challenges to overcome.

Stiles was ready for the journey, though, and as he watched Derek sleep, he knew that he couldn’t have chosen a better partner to accompany him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Haha - you didn't expect the 'art', did you? This masterpiece to rival the Mona Lisa was, indeed, drawn by yours truly, and I never got better than a C+ in my high school art class, so please take it as the heartfelt doodle it was meant to be ;). 
> 
> I was going to draw Sheriff, Lydia, and Jackson, too, but Sheriff came out looking like he'd just escaped from Area 51, so I decided that silhouettes work, too. So yeah. My artistic career will probably not be a regular thing (seriously, you should have seen what I did to poor Linden Ashby´s pretty face, that C+ in art class was justified), but I figured it would be nice for you to see a visualisation of what goes on in my brain, for a change ;). 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated, as always :).
> 
> And may RBG's memory be a blessing.


End file.
